


Peace and Quiet

by Noppoh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 12:47:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19251496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noppoh/pseuds/Noppoh
Summary: Harry disappeared from the Magical community years ago. Now, the Unspeakables believe it is time for him to come back. But will Harry agree? And what happens if he doesn't?





	Peace and Quiet

**Author's Note:**

> Massive thanks to my beta ProfessorDrarry. As always, you took this story to another level.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Harry Potter; I just have fun with the characters

 

Harry shrugged off his cloak and spelled his hair dry. The Hippogriffs were becoming more independent by the day. After Buckbeak had appeared about half a year after Harry left the wizarding world behind, Harry had been rescuing other mistreated or orphaned Hippogriffs. It was his way of honouring Sirius, and it gave him something to do.

He reheated the leftovers from last night’s dinner and settled himself at the table with a book. Sometimes, he mused about how Hermione would react if she saw him reading as much as he did nowadays. He had never been much of a reader, but on your own, there wasn’t much else to do.

Ron and Hermione were the only ones he’d told of his plan to disappear. Ginny and he had split up long before that. They had both changed too much. Now, his only contact with the wizarding world was a goblin liaison whom he paid royally for his silence. The goblins were reliable that way – thinking about long-term earnings and therefore unlikely to be swayed with a bribe. Besides, who would think to ask them in the first place? Prejudice was still very much present among wizards and witches alike.

Which was  one of the reasons he had decided to move to a small cottage in the middle of nowhere. He had expected change after the war, but none came. People kept looking at him as their saviour, both in the past and in the future. As if he would personally rid the world of every single ailment. It had been driving him crazy.

He opened his book and forked another piece of sweet-and-sour chicken in his mouth. He was pleasantly distracted when the long unheard whoosh of the Floo sounded. Instantly he discarded his dinner and aimed his wand at the intruder. His fireplace was not, and never had been, connected to the Floo network.

“Hi there, Harry. Long time, no see.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?” The man standing in his living room looked strangely familiar.

“You don’t recognise me?” the stranger asked. He put his hand over his heart with a dramatic gesture. “Ouch, you wound me.”

Harry continued to stare, wand extended.

“Blaise Zabini? No?” the man continued. “Doesn’t ring a bell? I was – and still am – a Slytherin?”

It did ring a bell, albeit a small one. Although it explained why the man seemed familiar, it did not explain why and _how_ he was in Harry’s house.

“How did you find me?” Harry demanded. Short from a Fidelius, he had put up every ward he could think of around the house.

“Oh, don’t panic,” Blaise answered, completely nonchalant. “Being an Unspeakable has its perks.”

Blaise looked away from Harry to survey the room and Harry took his chance. He could have sworn he heard Blaise let out a resigned sigh before the ropes tied him up and he fell to the ground.

“Now, now, Harry,” he mocked, “right down to the kinky stuff? You could at least offer me a drink first.”

“Excuse me?” Harry asked, levitating Blaise to sit him on the couch.

No one, absolutely no one in the wizarding world, knew about him swinging both ways. Sure, he had a one-night stand with a Muggle man once, but that had been it. It still felt new to him. Hopefully, Blaise was just boasting.

“That’s not what you had on your mind?” Blaise inquired with a downright sinful look.

Harry shook his head, looking away from the man. _What the hell?_

“How did you find me?” Harry demanded again.

“As I said, being an Unspeakable has its perks.”

“That doesn’t explain anything.”

Blaise shrugged, barely hindered by his restraints. It gave Harry the uneasy feeling that Blaise could get out of them anytime he wanted to.

“I’m an Unspeakable, Harry, there are some…. _liberties_ I can take. There are spells not even the Auror department knows about.”

“Whatever is that supposed to mean?”

“Your wards are missing some key elements; the one to hide your magical signature, for instance.”

 “These wards kept us safe during the war,” Harry replied sternly. “I don’t see why they would fail me now.”

“There wasn’t an Unspeakable looking for you during the war.”

Harry scoffed. “No, only Voldemort.”

“Exactly,” Blaise quipped.

“Exactly?” Harry bristled. “So you’re claiming the Unspeakables have spells that can track magical signatures at any given time?”

Blaise shrugged again. “Indeed. The detection spell for underage magic is a variant of it.”

Harry couldn’t believe how nonchalant Blaise remained. As if the man didn’t care at all. Did he even realise how different the war could have gone if the Order known about this spell? Didn’t he understand the sheer number of casualties could have been prevented had they been able to locate the Death Eaters? Had they been able to locate-

Harry narrowed his eyes. “So you mean to say the Unspeakables had a way to find Voldemort and never used it?”

“When he was using magic outside of the protection of cloaking wards, yes. Most of the grand wizarding estates are protected. But yes, we could have found him.”

Enraged, Harry stepped forward, all but driving his wand into Blaise’s chest. “Then why _didn’t_ you?”

“We’re neutral,” Blaise replied, “like Switzerland.”

Harry blinked in surprise. “You know about Switzerland?” Blaise was, as memory served him right, a Pureblood after all.

“Oh, there are a lot of things I know,” Blaise answered.

Harry stared at him, taken aback by the tone of Blaise’s voice.

“We’re part of the Ministry, but we’re neutral. It’s the only way to keep our knowledge safe, from being destroyed or  misused. Even the Dark Lord left us alone.”

“Why would he have done that?”

“Because he knew we hold many secrets; he just didn’t know which ones. Who was to say the Unspeakables didn’t know how to vanquish him?”

“He thought himself invincible.”

“He knew he was only invincible as long as his secrets were kept. Unfortunately for him,  secrets are our speciality.” Blaise grinned.

Harry considered it, then decided it didn’t matter. What was in the past, was in the past.

“Say I believe you, that still doesn’t explain _why_ you are here.”

In the blink of an eye, Blaise turned serious. “You disappeared on us, Harry,” he said.

“I’d had enough.”

“I know. And so we let you be, even though the public panicked. We watched as your friends explained that, no, you were not dead and no, they did not know where you were. We did wonder when a Hippogriff sanctuary with no benefactor and no set location managed to run smoothly with only the help of a goblin. Still, we let you be. But now is the time to return.”

Harry tensed. He could feel static raising the hairs on his arms and at the back of his neck as his anger grew and his magic reacted to it. His knuckles turned white from the force with which his fingers clenched around his wand. If Blaise really thought he would go along as a good, obedient _dog_ , he was sorely mistaken.

“I will not be used for some plan or another! I’ve had enough of it all. Peace and quiet, that’s all I want. I never asked for any of what happened.”

“None of us did,” Blaise said quietly. “Still, it is time for you to return.”

“Why? What do you hope to gain from it?”

“We believe it would improve our society.”

“I thought you were Switzerland.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t, you know, _influence._ ”

Harry shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair. With a flourish, he undid the ropes around Blaise.

“I’m _not_ going back. Leave. I’m going to risk trusting your discretion.”

Blaise smiled. “If you’re not coming with me, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Sorry?”

Blaise leaned back on the couch. “This seems comfortable enough. Do you have a spare pillow?”

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“No? Too bad. Transfigured pillows just aren’t the same.”

“I can evict you, you know.”

“Oh, trust me, Harry,” Blaise all but purred. “You can’t evict _me_.”

For a moment, Harry tried desperately to say something but nothing came out of his mouth. Eventually, he gave up and threw his hands in the air.

“Suit yourself!” he exclaimed. “But don’t think I’ll make allowances for you. I’m not feeding you. Or anything else. For all I care, you’re not even here.”

He banished the remains of his dinner, sent the dishes into the sink, snatched up his book, and retreated to his room. What was this Zabini thinking? Unspeakable or not, it was beyond rude to barge in like this and demand to stay. Well, not demand, _decide_ to stay _._

Harry tried returning to his book but his mind kept going back to the infuriating man currently lying on his couch. Realising there was no use in pretending to read, Harry crawled under the covers and started pretending to sleep.

After a restless night, he woke up at the break of dawn. Determined to give his houseguest a rotten morning, he deliberately slammed the door of his bedroom. When he arrived in the living room, however, the couch was empty and the room deserted. Harry almost hoped Blaise had decided to leave, but part of him knew how unlikely that was.

Moving to the kitchen, he noticed that last night’s dishes had been done. Harry valiantly fought the spark of gratitude he felt, then failed spectacularly. Instead, he decided to simply ignore it. After a quick breakfast of buttered toast, he went about his daily routine of checking up on the Hippogriffs.

Much to his surprise, and annoyance, that was where he found Blaise. He was petting Buckbeak, of all Hippogriffs. The proud and distrustful animal would never let anyone who had malicious intentions towards Harry near him.

“I always wondered what happened to him,” Blaise commented as Harry drew near.

“A lot,” Harry replied curtly. “What are you doing here?”

“This is a magnificent herd you have. They seem about ready to leave, though.”

Harry nodded, smiling wistfully despite himself. “Yeah. But it’s for the best. It means they’re fully healed. I can only wish them good luck.”

“You have a good heart, Harry,” Blaise commented.

Harry snorted. “Trying to sweet-talk me, Zabini?” he said. “Not going to work.”

“I was merely speaking the truth,” Blaise answered, turning to look at Harry. “It’s up to you whether to believe me or not.”

“Right…” Harry said with a sideways glance. “Whatever. I’ve got work to do.” He moved around the herd, greeting every one of them and checking old injuries. “What are you doing?”

“Following,” Blaise answered cheerily.

“I’ve noticed. Can you stop?”

“No.”

“No?” Harry seethed.

The Hippogriffs became agitated at his tone of voice. Blaise seemed unperturbed.

“No," he repeated. “I’m finding this way too interesting. It’s not often you see a Herd Master. I’m not in the study of creatures department but I know a few of my colleagues who would sell their souls to see you at work.”

“Should I worry about them showing up as well, then?” Harry snapped.

Blaise shook his head. “No. I’ve added the cloaking ward and disconnected your fireplace. You’re as isolated as ever — more even.”

Harry stared at Blaise, trying to catch him in a lie. He only continued smiling at him; Harry sighed and turned away.

 “Whatever,” he repeated.

“Good,” Blaise stated happily. “So, have you named them all?”

“I was never any good at finding names.”

“Didn’t you have an owl at school?”

Harry stiffened. “Do not,” he snarled, “talk to me about Hedwig.”

One of the Hippogriffs approached, a far from pleased look in its intelligent eyes.

This time, Blaise quickly retreated. “I’m sorry, I did not know it was a sore point.”

“She died protecting me,” Harry grumbled, not really knowing why he felt the need to explain.

He took a deep breath and went to calm the irked Hippogriff. Blaise stayed silent but kept following him. When Harry went to the cooler to fetch the meat,  Blaise muttered something that sounded suspiciously like ‘no thanks’ and he meandered off in a seemingly random direction.

Harry shrugged and gathered what he needed. He had gotten used to the carcasses a long time ago. The herd had been eating less and less of what he offered them, proving that they were hunting and approaching the moment when they would leave to find a territory of their own.

Hippogriffs were interesting creatures. Despite being so proud, the herd hierarchy seemed to be fluid. Even now, Harry had to watch their approach to the food to establish what that day’s ranking was. It was a rare day that Buckbeak wasn’t the leader, but the others seemed to switch their positions at random.

He shrugged and went back inside to take a shower and wash the blood off his hands and arms. He knew he could levitate all the meat instead of carrying it, but he found that he loved the manual labour, just as he loved to pull the weeds from his vegetable garden and cut the wood for his fireplace by hand.

After his shower, he checked the pantry. It annoyed him that he was even thinking about it – he _had_ said Blaise had to fend for himself – but he realised there was not enough food left to feed both of them.

With a grumble of irritation, he put on some faded jeans and a flannel shirt. The weather was nice and it wasn’t too cold, so he decided to walk to the Muggle village. He had barely walked a hundred meters when Blaise showed up.

“Tell me you won’t be following me again,” Harry sighed.

“But I will.”

“Must you really?”

“Yes.”

Harry contemplated the chipper answer and decided he wouldn’t waste his breath trying to protest. He was starting to get the feeling Blaise did whatever he wished, regardless of other people’s opinions on his actions.

“Fine, do whatever you please, but if you’re going to follow me you’d better—” He faltered as he glanced at Blaise.

“Change?” the man commented, one of those little smiles of his playing on his lips.

Harry stared.

Somewhere between one stride and the next, Blaise had transfigured his robes into Muggle clothing. He was wearing tight, black jeans with a loose-fitting T-shirt and a leather jacket. Unconsciously, Harry licked his lips. The man looked _damn_ fine.

“Uhm, yes,” Harry finally managed to say. Blaise smiled again and Harry forcefully pulled his eyes away from the man’s lips. “It’s a long walk. Are you sure you’re up to it?”

“By the way you were checking me out just now, I bet you can answer that question yourself.”

“I was _not_ checking you out!” Harry protested.

“Whatever you say.”

Harry let out a long-suffering sigh and quickened his pace, annoyed even further by Blaise’s chuckle behind him. Despite what Harry had expected, they walked to the village in silence. Blaise stayed just a step behind him, seemingly happy to actually follow. It wasn’t so different from having a dog, Harry contemplated.

“James!” Mary called from behind the register once they arrived at the small, local supermarket. “I wasn’t expecting you for another few days!”

Harry walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the cheek in greeting. Mary was in her late twenties and the daughter of the owners of the store.

“Yes, well,” Harry answered with a wave towards Blaise, “I’ve got an unexpected guest.”

“You? A _guest_?” Mary asked, half teasing, half surprised. She looked back at Blaise. “Ooh,” she exclaimed before continuing in a stage whisper, “and who might this be? Tell me, James, is he single?”

“I have no idea,” Harry answered.

Blaise – who had been checking out the products on display – raised his head and smiled. “Blaise Zabini is the name,” he said. “Very much single, but also very much gay.”

Harry blinked at Blaise while Mary clacked her tongue in disappointment. “Such a shame,” she said. “Here I was, hoping to stand a chance.”

“I’m sure any man would be happy to have you,” Blaise charmed.

“Tell that to this one,” Mary answered, nodding towards Harry.

“Really, _James_?” Blaise said.

Harry looked from one to the other, rolled his eyes, and disappeared between the shelves. He could hear Mary and Blaise chatting at the counter and he hoped Blaise wouldn’t say anything stupid. Then again, he seemed comfortable enough in the Muggle surroundings. Perhaps his job as an Unspeakable brought him in contact with Muggles on a regular basis. Who knew?

He gathered enough food to last the both of them for two weeks – he desperately hoped by then Blaise would have gotten the message that he wasn’t leaving – and brought it to the counter, where Mary bagged it all up.

“I’ve put the extra bag in here, as usual,” she said, pointing at the bag filled with pasta.

“Extra bag?” Blaise asked.

“Well, yes, in case one of them rips on his way back. It happened once, he told us. He had to walk the last stretch to his house twice! In the rain! We’ve offered to take him back by car several times, but he always refuses.” She toned down to a stage whisper again. “Crazy, our James is. Walking that far in all seasons, not minding the weather. Crazy.”

“Thanks Mary,” Harry commented dryly.

“The offer still stands, you know.”

“And as always, I’ll decline, but thank you.”

She shook her head and he smiled at her. They said their goodbyes and left the store.

“Extra bag?” Blaise asked again.

Harry sighed. “To gather all the shrunken bags in,” he said, conveying by the tone of his voice that it was the most obvious thing ever. “Even this far out of town I can’t just risk having them hover and follow me on their own accord.”

“Of course,” Blaise said. “I’m guessing you don’t _always_ walk this far?”

“I _do_ know how to Apparate.”

“Undoubtedly.”

“What are you aiming for?” Harry snapped.

“Why should I be aiming for anything?” Blaise answered. “Except getting you to come back into the public eye, that is.”

“Because you’re _you._ ”

“Oh, you think you’ve figured me out already, have you?”

“Not by a long shot,” Harry grumbled.

To his annoyance, Blaise laughed. “Good,” he said. “Although I do hope you figured some stuff out.”

“Such as?”

“That I do, indeed, have a pretty fine ass.”

Harry gave him a look. “ _That_ was lame.”

“But true.”

Harry prevented himself from checking out said ass by busying himself with his shopping bags. They were far enough removed from the village to shrink them down. After stuffing them in the extra bag, he shoved them in Blaise’s hands.

“Here. It’s your fault I had to go to the store today.”

Automatically, Blaise accepted the plastic bag. He looked at it, perplexed, before he started to grin. “Right, off I go then,” he said, before promptly Disapparating.

Harry stared at the empty spot where Blaise had just been standing, dreading what he was up to now that he was at Harry’s house alone. He’d known Blaise for less than 24 hours, but he had come to realise there was no predicting him.

Shrugging, he started the walk back to his cottage. The road was familiar and he could let his mind go pleasantly empty while he walked; his feet carried him to where he needed to be. By the time he arrived, it had started to drizzle and his stomach had started to rumble. Entering his home, he was met by the smell of bacon.

“You really should learn to lock your door,” Blaise called from the kitchen. “I hope you don’t mind bacon and eggs for lunch?”

Harry walked in, grabbing a kitchen towel to dry his face and hair. “Uhm, no?” he answered, completely surprised at seeing Blaise – back in his robes – frying bacon and eggs at the stove like a Muggle.

“That didn’t sound all that convincing.”

“Did that wound you, too?” Harry mocked. He smiled as he started to open cupboards. “Do you want tea, or coffee?”

Blaise’s lips twitched in that little smile of his again. “Tea, if you’d please.”

“Why am I not surprised,” Harry muttered, grabbing coffee for himself.

“There are standards to uphold, Harry,” Blaise commented.

“Sure there are…”

“We can at least pretend they’re important.”

“Pretend all you like; I’m drinking coffee.”

He decked the table for two and, soon after, Blaise divided the bacon and eggs over both plates. As they sat down to eat, Harry realised he was finding it rather pleasant to have someone else in his house. He’d been expecting it to get on his nerves but it felt nice to have someone to talk to.

He resolutely suppressed the feeling. Surely, it was all part of Blaise’s plan to get him back to London.

The day progressed smoothly;Harry tended the garden with Blaise a constant shadow. At dinner, Harry reluctantly cooked for two. It felt wrong to exclude Blaise after he’d made them both lunch.

After that, Blaise settled in as if he’d always lived with Harry. Harry never saw a trunk or suitcase, but still, Blaise managed to wear different clothes each day. And they weren’t transfigured, Harry was sure of that. A variety of teas found their way in the cabinet above the sink and an expensive bottle of firewhiskey appeared in the liquor cabinet.

“Aren’t you leaving yet?” Harry asked him every day.

And every day, Blaise gave the same answer. “Not until you decide to come with me.”

Harry took it in stride. He found that he was starting to get used to Blaise’s presence. It almost made him dread the day he would be alone again, especially after seeing the herd disappear for hours on end on several days in a row.

One afternoon – after seeing them fly away once again, wondering if this time they _wouldn’t_ come back – he trudged back into the house only to find Blaise lying on the couch in nothing but his boxers.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?” Harry choked.

“Drying,” Blaise answered, unperturbed, “I’ve just showered. Weren’t you going to check up on the herd?”

“They left again,” Harry answered morosely.

Even the gloom that accompanied that statement couldn’t stop him from eyeing his houseguest from top to bottom. Blaise was _very_ fit. His muscles were well-defined and all on display, the way Blaise was lounging. A trail of dark hair started from his navel and disappeared into his boxers. Harry could feel his cheeks heat and forced himself to look away.

It had been a long time.

“Like what you see, Harry?” Blaise asked salaciously.

The husky tone of his voice made Harry snap his head back to Blaise. He was suddenly standing and  slowly advancing on him. It hit Harry that Blaise was a head taller than him. How could he have been living with him for so long and not have noticed?

Harry managed to snap himself out of his daze and took a step back. “What do you think you’re doing?” he stuttered.

“Do you think I didn’t notice you watching me, Harry?” Blaise asked quietly, still moving slowly toward Harry.

If he reached out, Harry could have brushed his fingertips along Blaise’s skin. It made Harry nervous to have him so close. He did not know where to look. All he could see was Blaise’s tanned skin, his well-defined muscles, the way his body was leaning slightly leaning forward, as if he was holding himself back. Blaise’s gaze was so intent, Harry feared it would burn him if he were to meet it.

“I have _not_ been checking you out!” Harry insisted, trying to find a way out.

Blaise tilted his head. “Still denying, are we?” he questioned lightly, stepping into Harry’s personal space. “Will you pull back then, I wonder, when I drag my hands through your hair?”

Harry fought to keep his face impassive and his gaze steady as Blaise’s fingers carded through his hair, massaging his scalp. He couldn’t prevent a shiver as the caressing fingers moved to the back of his neck.

“No?” Blaise whispered. “Will you flee, then, when I move closer still?”

Harry felt like a deer caught in headlights – completely mesmerised and unable to move. He wasn’t entirely certain he would have wanted to move if he could. Why would he deny himself? So, he didn’t react as the hand at the back of his neck firmed and Blaise leaned in.

“Can I kiss you, Harry?” he whispered.

Much to his embarrassment, a moan escaped Harry’s mouth instead of the simple ‘yes’ he’d intended. There wasn’t much time to lament his shame, however, as Blaise took the little sound as the assent it was and brushed his lips against Harry’s.

Even though the kiss was gentle and unhurried, Harry shivered. He was already growing hard. It had been so long since anyone had touched him, let alone in an intimate way, that even this light kiss had his mind spinning out of control.

Blaise pulled back and smirked. Only then did Harry notice the hand running up and down his back, under his shirt. When had that started happening?

“The great Harry Potter,” Blaise teased,, “defenceless against my many charms.”

Harry narrowed his eyes, coming back to his senses. “Ugh!” he exclaimed, pushing against Blaise’s chest, causing him to take a step back. “You are far too confident for your own good,” Harry continued. “I’m going for a walk.”

Turning around, he marched back towards the door, trying very hard not to show that he was practically fleeing. His mind was all over the place, his body electrified, and his pants uncomfortably tight.

“Harry,” Blaise called, causing Harry to stop and peek over his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Drawing in a deep breath, Harry managed to sound somewhat normal when he answered, “Whatever.” He walked out of the house and then continued walking until he finally felt his mind relax again. An itch persisted just under his skin, but he decided to ignore it in favour of the scenery.

When he returned to the cottage, he also ignored the small trepidation he felt. He found Blaise at the stove, cooking dinner. He was  a pretty decent cook and somehow they had rolled into alternating who made their evening meal.

“It’s almost ready. Can you set the table?” Blaise asked.

Harry studied him for a moment – he was once more wearing clothes, thank Merlin. Blaise acted as if nothing had changed, so Harry shrugged and decided to do exactly the same. They ate in their usual silence, but when Harry started doing the dishes, a spell from Blaise had them clean in a flash.

“Hey!” Harry protested.

He turned around, only to find Blaise standing right behind him. Blaise placed his hands on the edge of the sink, effectively caging him in.

“Didn’t I say I wasn’t done yet?” Blaise murmured, smirking. “I let you leave earlier, but not this time, Harry.” He leaned in closer, his lips right next to Harry’s ear. “I want to know how your cock tastes in my mouth.”

Harry sucked in a breath. His blood rushed straight down, making him rock hard and dizzy. Blaise chuckled and nipped at Harry’s earlobe, causing him to moan. At this point, Harry didn’t care about his earlier protests; he just wanted to kiss the man, and get him out of his clothes. He was damn fine to look at. He wanted to run his hands all over Blaise and taste his skin.

Blaise seemed to hear Harry’s scrambled thoughts because he moved his lips to Harry’s. There was nothing slow about their kiss this time around. Harry buried his hands in Blaise’s hair, pulling him down towards him. Soon, their tongues were encircling one another and Blaise was pressed firmly against Harry. They both moaned when their erections got trapped between them.

With frantic movements, they divested each other of their clothes until they were down to their boxers. Harry protested when Blaise pulled back. However, the look of promise Blaise sent him made Harry’s heartbeat go out of control.

Dropping kisses along Harry’s chest, Blaise slowly lowered himself to his knees. Harry looked down at him, having a hard time processing that this was really happening. Blaise looked up to him and teasingly drew his fingers under the stretch band of Harry’s boxers, causing him to buck.

Without losing eye contact, Blaise pulled the boxers down Harry’s legs. Harry hissed as his erection was freed, the tip already leaking. He jerked violently as Blaise cupped his balls, and groaned when Blaise’s tongue licked from the base to the tip of his cock.

“How long has it been, Harry?” Blaise asked.

Harry needed time to process the question. One of Blaise’s hands was gently massaging his balls, while the other drew a fiery line along the back of his leg, from his ankle up. It was only when Blaise squeezed his butt that Harry remembered to answer.

“Too long,” he sighed.

“Shall we remedy that?” Blaise purred.

Harry fisted a hand in Blaise’s hair. “Don’t tease me, Zabini.”

“Then call me Blaise.” He licked along Harry’s shaft again.

“Nngh… What? You want me to— Blaise! Your name is Blaise!”

 Blaise smirked up at Harry before wrapping his lips around the tip of Harry’s cock and sucking.

“Oh, shit!” Harry exclaimed.

Harry’s hands left Blaise’s hair, wildly searching for the edge of the sink behind him. He needed to brace himself, needed something steady to support him lest his knees gave out. All air left him and he threw his head back as Blaise took him almost completely in his mouth. So _hot_ , so _wet_ , and Gods, it felt incredible. He moaned as Blaise started moving up and down, and groaned in protest when Blaise pulled back.

“Just as I thought,” Blaise murmured. “You taste as good as you look.”

Harry cursed as Blaise leaned in and started sucking on Harry’s balls. After a whisper from Blaise, Harry felt a thick liquid seep into his ass and he shivered in anticipation. At the same time as Blaise took him in his mouth again, a well-lubed finger slipping between his cheeks. Harry moaned at the sensations.

“Yes,” he sighed. “So good.”

He tried to stay still, to not push himself into Blaise’s mouth, but he knew he was failing when Blaise chuckled. The sound vibrated around his cock. It drove him wild.

“Blaise, I—”

That caused Blaise to chuckle again, but he let Harry slip out of his mouth. He placed kisses all over Harry’s hips and lower abdomen while slipping a second finger in Harry’s ass. He stood – still pumping those maddening fingers. Harry eagerly grabbed for Blaise’s erection, wrapping his hands around it, squeezing and stroking it through his boxers.

Blaise shuddered and leaned in. “I want to be inside you,” he whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Yes! Yes. Merlin, yes,” Harry exclaimed. “Bed, now.”

He clumsily stepped into Blaise – which led to an equally clumsy kiss – and proceeded to drag him to the bedroom. There, Harry decided he hadn’t seen nor felt enough of Blaise yet. He closed the bedroom door and shoved Blaise against it. Blaise looked momentarily surprised, then threw Harry a look so lustful that he felt it run over his skin.

Harry quickly removed Blaise’s last piece of clothing before pressing himself against the taller man. They both moaned at the skin to skin contact. Reaching between them, Harry grabbed both their erections in one hand and started slowly pumping, nibbling Blaise’s neck at the same time.

He felt Blaise’s moans through his entire body. It sounded absolutely divine to his ears.

“Harry,” Blaise sighed. “I want to fuck you; let me fuck you.”

Harry backed off, walking backwards towards the bed. Blaise followed him, his eyes hungry and intent. When Harry crawled on top of the sheets, he grabbed a cushion and shoved it under his lower back. He wanted to be able to see Blaise, to watch him when he would come undone.

Blaise settled himself between Harry’s legs. He repeated the wandless spell twice – once for Harry, once on his hand — and started stroking himself, slicking himself, while once more pushing two fingers in Harry’s ass. Blaise started pumping them at the same rhythm he was stroking himself. Harry stared. He shouted as Blaise curled his fingers, hitting his prostate.

Then, finally, Blaise pushed the head of his cock into Harry. They both groaned at the feeling.

“More,” Harry whispered, his eyes scrunched closed. “More.”

Blaise took hold of Harry’s thighs and started thrusting, slowly, going slightly deeper with every thrust. Soon, his balls slapped against Harry’s ass.

“Glorious,” Blaise muttered. “Touch yourself, Harry. Let me see you while I fuck you.”

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He grabbed his cock and started pumping. He tried to keep pace with Blaise, but Blaise’s thrusts quickly grew erratic. The room was filled with the sounds of moans and pants, with the sound of flesh hitting flesh every time Blaise buried himself in Harry.

Blaise threw his head back and Harry thought he looked absolutely godlike. Blaise’s abs rippled with every undulation of his hips, his biceps were flexed, and his fingers were digging deep into Harry’s thighs. They were sure to leave marks, but Harry didn’t care. He wanted nothing but for Blaise to lose himself.

“Merlin, Harry.” Blaise snapped his head back down, his eyes burning. “Are you close? Tell me you are close.”

“Yes,” Harry answered.

Blaise groaned and quickened his pace. He cried out as he came, shuddering. Harry watched as Blaise’s muscles went taut. The sight sent him over the edge. He clawed at the sheets as he came. Blaise pulled out and collapsed next to him while Harry gasped through the last remnants of his orgasm.

For a while, they both lay panting. A quick cleaning spell took care of the mess and Blaise tentatively put his hand on Harry’s chest.

“If you think you can banish me back to that thrice damned couch now, you’re sorely mistaken,” he commented.

Harry laughed. “I _knew_ that old thing couldn’t be comfortable.” He turned his head to regard Blaise. “I think I can spare half a metre of my bed.”

“Half a metre?” Blaise exclaimed. “Have you _seen_ me?”

“In all your glory,” Harry answered, smirking.

Blaise shook his head with mirth. “Well, then you definitely know I’ll need more space than that.” He shot Harry a speculative look. “Or perhaps we can pretend that the half metre doesn’t even exist and share the whole bed? It would require me to hold you, though.”

“If there really is no other option,” Harry answered, turning on his side with his back to Blaise. He shimmied backwards ever so slightly. “I’m sure we can endure.”

He smiled when Blaise’s arm wound around his waist. “I’m sure I don’t mind,” Blaise ventured.

“Me neither.” Harry yawned. “Goodnight, Blaise.”

He barely heard Blaise’s whispered ‘goodnight’ in answer before he drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, Harry woke completely entangled with Blaise. He smiled and made to rise. The last few weeks had taught him that Blaise was most definitely _not_ a morning person, despite that very first day. He barely roused as Harry crawled out of bed, or while he stood and watched him. He decided that Blaise looked absolutely adorable when asleep.

By the time Harry had made them both breakfast and coffee – tea for Blaise – he heard stumbling coming from the bedroom. Not long after, Blaise trudged into the kitchen.

“Good morning,” he muttered. “I need tea.”

Harry snorted and pointed at the cup already waiting on the kitchen table.

“Oh, thanks.”

“You know, I’ve been making you tea every single morning for some time now. How come you keep forgetting that?”

“No brain before tea,” Blaise answered.

“I see,” Harry laughed. “I’ll be outside.”

He grabbed a jacket and left. Going out in the morning had been filling him with dread lately. He tried not to show it too much, but every morning he feared he would find the fields empty and the herd gone.

A sigh of relief escaped him when he saw the Hippogriffs mulling about. As was his habit, he counted them and he sighed again to find they were all there. When he walked up to them, however, something felt off. The herd seemed restless, too alert. He studied them, trying to find the source of their unease, but finding nothing. Dread once more filled his heart.

Buckbeak stepped up to him, ruffling his feathers. The Hippogriff looked at him for a long time, then bumped his beak against Harry’s chest.

“What’s going on?” Blaise’s voice sounded next to Harry.

“I don’t know,” Harry answered, having gotten used to Blaise’s sudden appearances.

Buckbeak stepped back, cawed, and bowed to Harry. Behind him, the entire herd did the same. Harry bowed back, feeling a tear run down his cheek.

“They’re leaving,” he said.

Buckbeak rose again and turned towards Blaise. The creature took a threatening step forward and clawed at the earth. Blaise nodded once, gravely. Buckbeak seemed content by that and trotted back to the herd. Once he reached them, he led them into a gallop and then up into the air. Harry watched them fly away until they were no longer visible in the sky.

“Are you okay?” Blaise asked.

Harry didn’t immediately answer but dried the tears that were rolling down his face.

“Why exactly,” he finally asked, “do you want me to go back to London?” He didn’t look at Blaise but kept staring at the now empty sky.

“Your friend, Hermione Granger, will be running for Minister soon. She rose through the Ministry ranks quickly, bringing improvement everywhere she went. Much still needs to be done though. The Unspeakables, believe change is needed and we believe Miss Granger is the best choice. Imagine the impact it would have on her campaign if you were to return from your seclusion to support her.”

Harry didn’t reply, merely nodded. Without a word, he started walking. Blaise let him go alone, foregoing his usual shadowing.

In the days following the herd’s departure, Harry felt lost. He woke up in the morning and found that he had nothing to do but tend to his garden. He cleaned out the stables he’d set up for the winter days. He contacted the goblins to cancel the meat deliveries and to let them know the herd had left.

Blaise continued to shadow him and tried to console him more than once, but still, Harry felt lost. Everything somehow seemed emptier. He hoped the herd had found a good place to stay. It was good for them to have become independent. Harry contemplated starting from scratch and forming a new herd, but the prospect didn’t excite him like it had last time. Besides, there were only so many Hippogriffs in need to be rescued. There hadn’t been any new additions to the herd in the last six months.

One evening, after dinner, he sat on the couch next to a reading Blaise. “What about this?” he asked with a vague gesture between the two of them.

Blaise lowered his book and looked at him. “You mean _us_?”

“There is an _us_?” Harry asked. “This is not some elaborate plan to get me to join you back to London?”

Blaise marked his page and placed the book on the coffee table. “You think this is a plan of mine?”

“Well, you’re an Unspeakable and a Slytherin. You always have a very clear goal. What do I know?”

“Harry,” Blaise said, moving closer and putting a hand on Harry’s knee. “This is not—  yes, I came here with the sole goal to have you come back. My plan was the one I told you that first evening; stay until you agree to return with me. This —  us —  it wasn’t part of the plan, Harry. I got to know you – the real you. I got to see you interact with the herd. I got to see your face as you walked through the countryside. That’s when I started caring for you, Harry. It’s not some sort of hoax.”

Harry looked at Blaise’s pleading face. “Really?” he asked, hating how vulnerable he sounded.

“Yes, Harry, really.”

“So, you won’t disappear. If I returned, that is?”

“No, Harry, I won’t. I won’t disappear on you.”

Harry looked away, contemplating. Blaise’s thumb was caressing his knee, distracting him. There was nothing left for him anymore at the cottage, yet the idea of returning to London was far from attractive.

“You can always return here, Harry,” Blaise said, having seemingly read Harry’s thoughts. “There’s an apartment we’ll provide for you near Hyde Park in Muggle London. You can stay there as long as you like, or use it as a base to find something more suitable. We understand what we’re asking of you.”

“ _Do you_?” Harry questioned. “Do you even know how it was before? It will be worse now, much worse. I just want to be left alone.”

“I know,” Blaise answered. “We won’t hold you back if you want to seclude yourself again after Miss Granger has been elected. And if you want to stay, I promise I will do everything within my power to make the press and the public leave you alone.”

Blaise reached out to cup Harry’s cheek and turn his head so he could look at him. “I won’t force you, Harry. This is your decision. I won’t abandon you either way.”

Harry leaned forward and kissed Blaise, needing the comfort. Blaise, as always, seemed to understand Harry’s mood and pulled him closer. They made love, but still, Harry couldn’t sleep that night. He thought about everything Blaise had said, about the options he had and what he wanted for his life. Eventually, when dawn was already approaching, he fell into a troubled sleep.

For once, Blaise was up before Harry. The empty bed made Harry panic for a moment, but then the clanging of pans and a curse from the kitchen made him breathe a sigh of relief. He got up and pulled on some clothes.

“Good morning, Harry,” Blaise greeted.

“I agree,” Harry said.

Blaise looked up at him. “Come again?”

“I agree,” Harry repeated. “I’ll go back to London if I’m not immediately bombarded by the press. I want to meet up with Hermione and Ron first; reacquaint with my friends before we let the public know I’m back.”

Blaise walked up to Harry, his look intent. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Harry said. “Yes, I am.”

“Thank you,” Blaise answered before leaning in to kiss Harry.

“Uhm, Blaise,” Harry said after a while, pulling back. “The bacon is burning.”

Blaise cursed and hastened back to the stove. “This is your fault, Harry, for distracting me.”

“Sure thing, Blaise,” Harry answered with a smile.

And just like every morning in the weeks that had past, and every morning in the many weeks to come, they had breakfast together.

 


End file.
